Reconciliation
by Mellifluous Violet
Summary: Hermione is furious with Ron when he ruins her first day of work, and he isn't too pleased with her either. They end up doing what they do best - fighting and making up. Possibly multiple chapters, M-rated content to follow. Post DH.


_A/N: Might be a one-shot, possible second chapter. Let me know your thoughts!_

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"And that's why I _never_ thought to invite you, Ronald!" came the inevitable scream, where fury intermingled with overpowering aggravation and ended up sounding a bit like a growl.

Hermione Granger hated how riled up he could get her. How absurdly one-sided his argument was, how extraordinarily smug yet juvenile he came across. Most especially, she hated how she couldn't just stop trying to get in the last word.

Despite the mild buzz from the alcohol that was still humming through her brain, causing an ever so slight feeling of cotton filling up space in her head, the anger she felt coursing through her blood was quite sobering. She saw the flat with heightened clarity – every little detail felt sharp and painful. The harsh light from the kitchen, the precarious shelf of books that looked like it might topple over if one more volume were to be added, the too-warm temperature that likely explained the pile of crumpled clothes scattered about…all of it annoyed her more than it should, and certainly more than it normally did when they would row like this.

After such an eventful day she desperately wanted to shed the pale lilac dress she adorned and pull on one of his absurdly soft t-shirts, as she'd done the past six nights in a row, but fought the urge to even so much as take off her shoes. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking she'd be staying the night after how he'd behaved, though there was the nagging dread of what her alternative would be. The irritating truth was that she didn't really have many other options, though she certainly didn't care to admit that now. Everyone and every place felt connected to Ron.

"You mean to tell me that you actually think I give a damn that you didn't invite me to your little work date? Blimey, Hermione, use that clever mind of yours – "

"Then why are you _acting_ this way?" she screeched, marching several steps closer to him, her voice bouncing off the pale walls like an exasperated shadow. "I can't stand when you shout at me like this! You acted barbaric tonight, Ron. Honestly, it was humiliating!"

"Keep your voice down," he snapped, "I show up there, of all places, to find _you_ with _him_ , and you're tipsy! Merlin knows what state you'd be in now if I hadn't intervened. And don't stand there like you are so…so bloody _right_ all the time!"

" _Me?_!" She couldn't believe her ears. A thousand irate replies flew through her head but all she could muster was a fitful wail. Her hands balled into fists and she felt the sting of tears. _No, hold it together, Hermione. Don't allow him to win. He always gets to call you the emotional one._

She took in the young man before her. Ronald Weasley had certainly grown up in terms of appearance. His usually overgrown ginger hair had been cut short, accentuating his strong jaw and muscled upper body. Auror training had turned Ron's body into a stronger version of the boy she knew a year ago – his stature had improved and he seemed even taller than before, though she knew he wasn't. Of course they had seen each other at holidays and occasionally met up at Hogsmeade, but it was only in the last week following the completion of her final year at school that she'd been able to appreciate being around Ron long enough to notice the changes in his body. His voice had deepened – something she found incredibly attractive, though she'd yet to confess that to him.

He was breathing heavily, arms restless. Since they'd crossed paths twenty minutes ago in Diagon Alley, Ron had been just as worked up as she. His navy sweatshirt looked smart on him, though it was much too warm for the late June weather. She imagined him pulling it off the floor of his messy bedroom as he rushed out to track her down tonight. His face was several shades redder than usual – Hermione could practically feel the anger radiating off him from two meters away.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to keep her voice level. He met her eyes and she blinked, straining to come up with adequate words.

"Ron, I promise you that I'm sincerely not trying to fight with you right now," she began, flinching when she heard him chuckle bitterly. "It's your choice whether to believe me or not. I hope by now that you'd learn to trust me. Since it was my first day there, he was kind enough to take me out since we didn't have much time to sit down today and talk. It was strictly professional!" _Believe me, Ron_ she prayed silently. A part of her longed to tell him about the rest of her day – details about her new teammates, the cases she'd get to help with. She'd been keen to get home (well, her temporary one at least) to tell him all about it over a late dinner. Of course, Hermione hadn't thought it would end up a screaming match in the middle of the flat.

"Hermione, that's the sodding problem! Maybe you'd understand that if you didn't drink so much tonight and would stop talking for five seconds," he barked, taking a step closer towards her – so close she could feel a miniscule speck of saliva hit her face as he shouted. She was rendered speechless, which gave him the opportunity to take a labored breath and continue. "It's only been a little over a _year_! While you've been all cozied up at Hogwarts, we've seen what kind of – of horrible things are still out there! What lengths Voldemort's former followers have gone to in order to hide from us. It's been _hell_ , Hermione, and I'm not even allowed to talk about it with you!"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Ron quickly cut her off.

"You need to trust _me_ that it's still not safe to go gallivanting around with the first randy wizard who asks you to drinks! If you'd only had just listened to me this morning when I told you to come straight back here after work – "

" _Randy?!_ You just sound ridiculous now, Ron!" She cried, feeling insecurity begin to bubble up along with her fury. Did he seriously think that Lionel Jacoby, her new supervisor within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had taken her out for a few drinks after her first day because he wanted to get in her knickers? "That's low, Ron, even for you to say. You know how important this day was for me, how badly I wanted to make a good impression!"

"Who takes their new, I'm sorry…what's your role again? Administration Assistant or something?" Ron paused, sounding unsure of himself as he moved to scratch his head.

Hermione let out an angry sob. He didn't even remember her title! It was her very first job, one she'd ensured Ron was the first to know about weeks ago before telling anyone else. He had sounded so delighted for her, so invested. They'd both be at the Ministry, along with Harry! Hope seemed contagious as they dreamed of helping restore the British Wizarding community together, alongside those who'd survived the ghastly War. Eager letters back and forth to plan her indefinite stay at Ron and Harry's flat and their wonderfully sweet reunion in London had been short-lived indeed. It broke her heart. She wished very desperately to correct him on her title, but instead hung her head and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. Crippling sadness overpowered her, and she continued to fight back the scorching tears that were staring to betray her resolve.

Without bothering to wait for her reply, Ron kept going. She felt a tremendous urge to smack him.

"That blundering idiot should know it's not safe yet to go into dodgy places like the White Rat, for Merlin's sake. Do you know who the owner is, Hermione? Do you?" Ron bellowed, stepping now within arm's length of her. She refused to lift her gaze from the ground, not wanting to reveal her pinched face. "He's the brother of that cocksucker Macnair, who escaped capture last year with all of the others. _That's_ why we've been in there! _That's_ why I flipped the hell out and brought you back here, dammit!"

Hermione's heart stopped. Of course, she couldn't have known all this. She cautiously raised her eyes to meet his, both pairs full of fire.

"I could tell you drank too much. It was obvious, the way you kept laughing and how red your face is. It makes me sick to think of you like that, just like a sitting duck for anyone to come along and recognize you," Ron seethed, shaking his head.

"Ron, I think I had two glasses of wine. That hardly counts – "

"Try three."

"Now how could you _possibly_ – "

"See, you lied to me! I knew it was more!"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Hermione cried, lifting her hands to cover her face in frustration. Her emotions felt like molten lava, churning and ready to spew everywhere.

She had, in fact, had two glasses of wine and one very strong shot of brandy. She'd forgotten, not intended to lie. And while she had felt the alcohol beginning to set in, her plan was to apparate back to the apartment soon so she could see Ron. He'd been on her mind at the exact moment he stormed into the pub just across from the Ministry, making a fool of himself as he aggressively pulled Hermione from an innocent conversation with her colleague. He had made her feel like a child missing curfew, and worst of all he was rude to her new boss. She inwardly groaned thinking about how she was going to apologize on behalf of Ron tomorrow at her second day of work when she saw Lionel again.

"I don't give a rat's arse how I sound. And stop looking at me like that!" Ron turned suddenly and made for his bedroom down the hall, leaving the brunette to yell down the hall at his retreating back.

"Running away, Ronald? Why is this so _difficult_? Do you realize how childish you're being?" Her voice was strained now, and her throat hurt to swallow. Angrily she went about heating the kettle in the tiny kitchen, slamming cabinet doors as she went. So consumed was she with all that had just transpired that she didn't even hear the faint pop as her other best friend appeared.

"Hermione! How was it?" Harry enthusiastically exclaimed upon seeing her, dropping his bag onto the couch and kicking off his shoes in the corner. His raven hair was till unkempt, but also shorter than it had always been due to the auror training requirements. Bounding over to her, Hermione quickly took a shaky breath to compose herself and act decent for her best friend. He landed a quick kiss to her cheek and she forced a counterfeit smile onto her face.

"Hi," Hermione whispered, suddenly feeling very small and uncomfortable in the flat belonging to her best friends. She busied herself pouring Harry a cup of tea, avoiding eye contact for the time being but knowing it was inevitable.

"Well? Go on, then!" he urged, "I tried seeing if I could sneak away to come visit your office but they kept us so busy today," Harry said, stretching his arms high above his head. Hermione carried two steaming mugs to the small table and pulled a chair out, sitting down gingerly.

"It was just wonderful, Harry, thank you for asking," she began, a real smile quickly replacing the phony one as his attention seemed wholly focused on her. He nodded, encouraging her on. "Well, as I'm sure most departments are experiencing, there is just so much _work_ to be done. Professor Slughorn told me it would be this way when he found out that I got this role, but it's so different to see it with my own eyes. It's exciting, really!" She saw Harry smile into his tea as she continued.

"They need help prioritizing all of their open cases, which I knew would be part of the job, but it's really unbelievable how much must have been left sitting before Kingsley took over. Honestly, Harry, I feel so glad to finally have substantive work rather than all the theory we learned at Hogwarts." She filled Harry in on how grateful she was for her colleagues in the unit, leaving out that her direct supervisor treated her to drinks when the workday came to a close and the subsequent blowup that followed. He'd find out eventually when Ron decided to emerge from his room, but for now she savored the civil conversation with Harry.

"They're lucky to have you, Hermione. I'll wager you'll be there six months tops before another head of department steals you away," he said sincerely, blowing on his tea before taking a large sip. A warm ripple of affection for her dear friend caused Hermione's heart to swell. It was welcome relief to share some facet of her big day, but she wished it wasn't just Harry she was sitting across the table from.

As if on cue, Ron thumped back down the short hallway and turned into the kitchen, having obviously taken a very quick and very hot shower. The subtle scent of Ron's soap permeated the air around Hermione, reminding her that they were still caught in the middle of an unresolved row.

"Hermione's just telling me about her day," Harry said, obviously assuming that Ron had already been all caught up. He grunted in reply, grabbing a bottle of spiked pumpkin juice from the fridge in lieu of the elderberry tea his friends were drinking and sat atop the kitchen counter. Hermione eyed him uncertainly.

"Go on. Don't let me stop you," Ron shot back, waving his hand in the air rudely. Harry raised an eyebrow at the gesture.

"Everything ok between you two?" Harry asked after a tense moment. One fat tear betrayed Hermione as it slipped down her face, not going unnoticed by Harry who was looking back and forth between the two. "What's happened?"

"You want to tell him or should I?" came Ron's retort as he took a generous swig of the drink in his hand. That was all it took for Hermione's anger to rise again to the surface, trapping Harry in the crossfire.

"Oh, I'm happy to share – thanks, Ron!" Hermione cried, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She hated the way she sounded but couldn't seem to stop. Poor Harry gulped as Hermione continued. "Well, you know how I told you how kind and lovely Mister Jacoby was? He suddenly decided to lure me away to the most secluded place he could find to seduce me. Naturally, he chose a crowded pub in the middle of Diagon Alley! As I consumed dangerous amounts of the hardest liquor we could find, Ronald came charging in to the rescue!" she finished melodramatically.

"Come off it!" Ron snapped, sliding back to his feet off the counter, his drink left forgotten. "Harry, we agreed that she would come back here right after work. I even went past her office, hoping I could see her there, but _no_ …"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat to hear that Ron had thought to stop by. She immediately regretted her immature retelling of what happened.

"I knew something wasn't right when I came here and saw that no one had been back yet, so I started checking all the places around the Ministry. Then I walk by and see her and what's-his-face in plain sight through the window, enjoying some spirits to take the pressure off a hard first day of work," he said, voice thick with disdain. "They were in the damn White Rat, where the blokes we use as informants normally go, Harry," Ron's voice had raised, thundering around the small kitchen.

"You make it sound like we were on Knockturn Alley, Ron! Don't be so dramatic!" Hermione cried, nearly knocking her tea aside in exasperation.

"Dramatic? _Dramatic?!_ It's bloody dangerous, Hermione, but _you_ wouldn't know that! You've been out of Hogwarts for six _bleeding_ days…I know this may come as a shock to you, but that's not enough time to suddenly become an expert at everything!"

"Ron, don't be such an arse!" Harry interjected.

The insult cut deep. Hermione burst into tears to the horror of both boys. Harry suddenly stood up, his face pressed to a frown. He closed the short distance to Hermione, squatting down in front of her and wiping her tears with the back of his hand.

"Shhh, it's alright. Don't let this ruin your day. It sounds like it was otherwise a brilliant start," Harry said quietly as Hermione nodded and tried to get her breathing under control. Though she knew both boys had seen her cry throughout their eight years of friendship, this was by far the most mortifying. Harry sounded composed, though she knew he felt awkward. He patted her knee gently before rising to dump his tea in the sink, brushing aside Ron as he did so. Hermione heard him mutter something curtly to him and then he was gone, padding down the hallway and loudly closing the door to his bedroom.

Through her bleary eyes, Hermione looked up to meet Ron's gaze. Neither spoke at first. The only sound was the occasional sniff as Hermione attempted to calm herself.

"I'm sorry I made you cry," Ron murmured, dropping his eyes to the floor. "That was uncalled for…I know I am a complete git, but…blimey, Hermione, I just care about you. It's not all rainbows and daisies out there yet…" he whispered, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"I know," Hermione tried to say confidently, but her voice stuck in her throat. Clearing it, she began again. "Truly, I appreciate your concern for me, but please understand that it didn't have to happen that way, Ron. If you had pulled me aside at that pub and asked me to come home with you, I would have graciously bowed out of there in a heartbeat," she paused to look up at him and saw that he'd moved closer, arms unfolded now and in his pockets. He nodded silently at her to continue. "I couldn't wait to see you, Ron," Hermione whispered, a fresh batch of tears making their way down her face, much to her displeasure.

"Hey now, no need for that anymore. C'mere," Ron said gently, pulling her arms up and wrapping his snugly around her. She felt her heart beat faster as he kissed the top of her head before releasing her all too soon. The skin on her arms felt cold as she backed up a step, wishing he had embraced her a little while longer.

"I should go," Hermione whispered, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Ron's face fell as he comprehended what she said.

"You don't want to stay with us?" He asked, sounding hurt. Hermione mentally kicked herself.

"I don't want to put you out is all. Besides, I've probably outworn my welcome – "

"Bollocks!"

"I'm serious, Ron – you two probably miss having this place to yourselves. I should - "

Hermione noticed a flurry of movement and suddenly Ron was everywhere – so close that the words caught in her throat. Impossibly warm lips pressed against hers and she felt like she was melting against him. Involuntarily, her eyes fluttered shut, though she remained bewildered. They had only shared a handful of kisses since that fateful battle last May.

Ron's calloused hands began to slide up her face and come to rest on her cheeks, fingers splayed slightly to wipe the remaining tears away. The pads of his thumbs stroked back and forth gently, caressing the skin under her eyes delicately. He held her face almost reverently, like she might break.

Hermione breathed a rattling sign and relaxed, bringing her hands to rest on his wrists. Ron's lips moved against hers but did not deepen the kiss, so she chose to take initiative this time. Darting her tongue out, she felt Ron shiver as she ran it along the seam of their lips. Her entire body felt ablaze as the kiss ignited the familiar feeling in her lower belly.

A minute later, Ron pulled back, breathing heavily. Both sets of eyes snapped open, glossy brown meeting liquid blue. She could stare at his gorgeous face all day. His strong hands had moved unhurriedly down her neck and now held her shoulders, keeping her close but with enough space in order for him to lean back and search her face.

"Don't go," he swallowed, pausing to tuck a few rebellious strands of hair behind her ear. It had grown unruly during their apparation and fight, leading to the recently escaped tendrils falling from the neat bun Hermione had worked so hard to pin up neatly that morning. "Stay here with us, please. I didn't mean to muck anything up with work or make you feel bad."

Hermione pursed her lips, considering his words. It was beginning to come together, the reasoning behind why he had reacted so strongly earlier. Of course, had he just explained his feelings from the beginning, they wouldn't have had to scream at one another across the room. Ron was impulsive and protective. While she still inwardly groaned to imagine the damage control needed from his actions earlier tonight, she relented to his touch. It was rare that he was this boldly affectionate with her, especially with Harry nearby. She didn't realize she craved it until the fire was kindled.

"We need to communicate better," Hermione whispered, moving her forehead to rest against his and closing her eyes again. "This job means a lot to me, Ron, and I can't mess this up. And I don't appreciate being treated like a tot."

"Sorry," came his sad whisper, followed by a shaky breath that blew over Hermione's face. She sensed a nervous energy from him. "I'll be better. I'll try to not be such a prat. It's – it's just that…" he paused, an anxious twinge in his voice.

"What?" Hermione's eyes snapped open once again, scrutinizing his expression. His mouth remained closed and he fiddled with Hermione's earrings lightly, twisting them gently with his thumb as he avoided eye contact. "Tell me," she said quietly, deciding to lean forward and peck his lips lightly as an encouragement.

His eyes had darkened, the deep blue downright striking as he met her stare straight on. Moving his hands from her upper body to rest on her hips, she felt the room begin spin. The buzz from the alcohol combined with her growing arousal at being so close to him was causing her to feel a bit lightheaded. The intensity of the conversation wasn't helping.

"I'm so scared to lose you, 'Mione," Ron whimpered.

Her heart contorted at his words. Truth be told, this was the safest she'd felt since she was eleven years old, with Voldemort now destroyed and her two closest friends happy and well. They were all together again, but this time imminent danger felt farther off than ever before. All three had jobs in London, the Ministry was being reformed, none of their friends or family were in hiding anymore, and they no longer had to communicate by owl or brief visits when Hermione could sneak away to Hogsmeade. But she understood – it still took some getting used to. They hadn't yet learned to let their guard down.

"You're not going to, silly," Hermione smiled, trying to lighten his mood, "but yelling at me isn't really conveying the message that you want me to stick around." She knew he'd recoil at her words, but it was vital to communicate. They weren't teenagers anymore. She was sick of rowing with him.

Though he appeared crestfallen, he nodded and laced their fingers together. "Come to bed with me? I'll make it up to you," Ron teased with a smirk, running his fingertips lightly over the fabric at her waist.

Hermione had indeed been sharing Ron's bed, but he'd been a perfect gentleman. In all honesty, he didn't even need to tempt her with that offer. After the terrible fight, she wanted to be reassured that he wanted her there. While Ron wasn't the best with words, he made up for it in touch. Pulling her loosely into his arms, Ron swayed with Hermione as if they were dancing. She couldn't help but snicker as he spun them out of the kitchen and towards the hallway. The room became dizzier and before she could trip or ask him to slow down, Ron had slinked an arm around her waist and supported most of her body weight. Laying down the last of her resistance, Hermione let go and allowed him to carry her.

Pausing briefly by Harry's door, Ron called out goodnight to their friend. Harry opened it within seconds and stood against the frame, taking in the scene before him. They were clearly reconciled, causing Harry's mouth to twitch in an amused expression.

"Be good to each other," he said sternly, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Planning on it, mate. See you bright and early."

Hermione allowed herself to be half walked, half carried to Ron's messy bedroom. There wasn't much in there aside from an overflowing dresser and Cleansweep Eleven propped up in the corner, and he certainly hadn't made any real effort to decorate the place. His mother's patchwork quilt was the only real pop of color against the white walls, and Hermione was quick to change into one of Ron's abandoned shirts while he went to brush his teeth. They'd mutually decided to skip on dinner, a decision Hermione knew Ron would likely regret in a few hours.

She was already laying on her side facing the wall when he came back, her legs tucked under the sheet. Ron quietly closed the door and banished the lights with a flick of his wand before crawling in next to Hermione. She shivered as the bed dipped to accommodate his weight, relishing in the scent and nearness of him.

"Hermione?" he whispered, turning also to his side behind her.

"Hmm?"

"Would it be alright if I, erm…"

Curiosity got the better of her and she shifted her hips, grateful that the lights were off so he wouldn't see her blush. "What?"

Instead of speaking, she felt his strong arm come around her side and pull her gently towards him. She involuntarily groaned as his firm chest pressed fully against her backside, their feet touching at the opposite end. It was delicious – she wanted to push back more snugly against him, but nerves got the better of her.

"Is this okay?" Ron whispered, velvety voice dangerously close to her left ear. She nodded, beaming in the darkness even though he couldn't see her face. They lay there for several moments and Hermione grew less and less sleepy.

Merlin, this feels nice. Tell him!

"Ron?" she asked softly, noticing the shift of her pillow as Ron's other arm snaked underneath it to bring their bodies even closer. "Are you tired?"

He grunted in reply before removing the arm around her waist, allowing her to turn onto her back. "Wasswrong?" he murmered through a yawn. Hermione twisted her head on the pillow to face his, realizing how close his neck was even in the darkness.

"Did you mean what you said earlier? About…about making it up to me?" Hermione couldn't believe the words that tumbled from her mouth. She sounded…flirtatious. Coy. Perhaps it was the effects of the brandy that had brought on this daring side of her. Her face suddenly burned with awareness of what she'd uttered to the boy who was clearly more than a friend, but not really defined as anything else. She felt him tense next to her, obviously taken aback as well by her question.

Before things turned too awkward, she decided that it was now or never. He'd made the first move – it was time to reciprocate. Summoning every ounce of Gryffindor courage, she shifted towards him and rested her face against his neck. One leg draped over his midriff, causing Ron to emit a puff of air from his mouth in surprise.

Hermione almost yelped in surprise as she felt his arms go around her and pull her up so that she was completely splayed on top of him, like a blanket. Her right leg remained hooked on one side of his body while the other straightened out over top of him. She pressed an openmouthed kiss to the side of his neck and grasped his shirt in both hands, not quite trusting that she wouldn't teeter over one side of him.

"If you'd like to properly square things up, I think I'd like to make good on that promise," Ron whispered huskily. Hermione heated up, wanting nothing more than to writhe over top of him but choosing to remain perfectly still. It was his move now.

Ron must have sensed her tense up because she felt his arms begin to move over top her back, rubbing back and forth over the thin cotton of his borrowed shirt from her shoulder blades to the small of her back. Hermione wondered if he could feel the swell of her chest pressed against his sturdy front.

His hot breath was at her temple, then the kisses began. He successively planted them down her face, searching out her lips. She was too low on his body, causing a giggle to erupt from her chest as Ron could only reach her nose. She lifted her head and captured his lips in a searing kiss – so abruptly intense that they both moaned into each other.

Merlin, he's good at this.

Her body was on fire and she began moving slowly over top of him, delighting in the friction. His tongue was relentless, meeting hers over and over.

"'Mione," he gasped, pulling away from the searing kiss. "Are you sure?"

She grinned, taking in his shadowy face. His body felt just as warm as hers, and she wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel him without the barrier of clothing between them. His hips were shifting slightly under hers, building a magnificent pressure.

"Yesss," she hissed, rising up from him to pull off the cotton shirt. "Make it up to me, Ronald."

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 _A/N: TBD if you guys want! I have some ideas of where to take the next chapter. ;)_


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